


look at me, even if it's not now

by Miralana



Series: gifts & requests [19]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Background WooSan - Freeform, Ghosts, M/M, Minor Injuries, Shamanism, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27023341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miralana/pseuds/Miralana
Summary: Kim Hongjoong has enough on his plate, juggling the Chuseok rush, his deteriorating ghost roommate and being pathetically single, without Wooyoung begging him to help a total stranger who's being haunted by the gods knows what -ifhe's being haunted by anything at all.He does not expect to actually find something supernatural, nor to start liking Park Seonghwa, but well... here he is.
Relationships: Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Series: gifts & requests [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1190200
Comments: 41
Kudos: 154





	look at me, even if it's not now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kalez](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalez/gifts).



> this is a commission for kalez who asked for 5k of ateez and witchy/creepy stuff and um- yeah- this is absolutely 5k long, this didn't go absolutely away from me. i hope you'll like it, i had a lot of fun! 
> 
> i have another ateez fic coming up soon, inbetween my bts fics, so if you liked this, you might like "gay little jongho" which is what i call the monster that currently resides at 17k in my google drive and has no intention of stopping XD
> 
> thanks to leila for betaing!
> 
> A note: While I have done my research about korean shamanism, I don't consider this fic to be an accurate representation of it at all. There is some stuff I had to hand wave so that it would fit the story, but I tried my best to approach the topic respectfully within the context of my fic and no disrespect to real life practitioners of korean shamanism or korean culture is intended.
> 
> Warnings and notes:  
> \- A character suffers a couple of fire injuries from a paranormal source. One of them is described a bit more detailed, the others are very vague. If you don't like the vaguely detailed description stop after Hongjoong enters Seonghwa’s apartment after Wooyoung calls him in the middle of the night and move to the next paragraph  
> \- Discrimination of mythical beings, similar to those of queer people  
> \- There's a joke about Wooyoung dating toddler San, because Wooyoung is nine-hundred years old and San is twenty-five. They started dating four years ago.  
> \- Yunho is a ghost who died ages ago, it's not further described when or how as he doesn't remember  
> \- They're all aged up a bit so Seonghwa and Hongjoong are 26

“I have a friend who’s in trouble,” is the first thing Wooyoung says, not even a greeting in sight, being an absolutely disrespectful little shit, when he enters Hongjoong’s apartment which doubles as his shop.

Granted, Wooyoung called him twelve times and Hongjoong didn’t even listen to his voice mails yet, so he assumes it’s a. urgent, b. Wooyoung might be a bit angry and c. he probably used up his repository of politeness for the day and Hongjoong should probably let it pass, lest Wooyoung decides to feast on his liver or heart - he’s on day eight-hundred-seventy-three of his newest attempt to become human and Hongjoong would hate for him to fail.

So he lets Wooyoung in and closes the door behind him. The front of his apartment - his shop - is as chaotic as it usually is, herbs and utensils everywhere, his tablet open with a pdf of a recipe so old that he thinks Wooyoung himself might not have been alive when it had been written. He’s up to his neck in work for Chuseok, because of course all the families want to honor their ancestors somehow and converse with the spirits - and listen, Hongjoong truly believes that this is his calling, that keeping the balance between the spirit world and the human world is why he was put on this earth and he also really needs the money. It’s one of the best times of the year for him - but he’s so fucking exhausted he thinks he might have accidently called upon something divine a couple of days ago because all of the food in his fridge started disappearing. Yunho says it hasn’t been him which might just be a bold-faced lie or Hongjoong might just simply have eaten the food, but both sound very unlikely. Absolutely. Nothing like that has ever happened before.

“Social Workers, hospitals, and the police do exist,” he still offers, mostly because the last time he dealt with one of Wooyoung’s friends he nearly sent one of his friends to the spirit world. Yunho still hasn’t forgiven him.

“Hongjoong-ah,” Wooyoung pouts. “I think my friend is being haunted.”

Wooyoung thinks all of his friends are being haunted. It’s in his nature. He never got over the fact that strange things happen occasionally, without a deeper meaning that isn’t some kind of mythical creature. Hongjoong has spent way too many of his days crawling around apartments and finding out that yes, the pre-war structure of the building is making all of that noise and not some kind of creepy spirit - no offense meant to any gwisin in attendance.

“Wooyoung-hyung,” he says slowly. “Are you sure that’s what’s going on with your friend?”

He’s ready to argue for a perfectly normal occurrence. Whatever this friend’s problem is, it might just be that he’s stressed or that his building is making noises or-

“He wakes up with new burn marks every morning. I’ve seen him right before he went to bed and when we meet up in the morning they’ll be there.”

Alright. Okay. That doesn’t sound particularly normal, but- things happen.

“Maybe your friend sleep walks and likes to touch the stove or the kettle or-”

Wooyoung pulls his phone out of his pocket, clicks on it a couple of times and turns it around. There’s a video, a gritty video in the half darkness of a figure sleeping and Hongjoong is ready to tell Wooyoung that he simply doesn’t have any time to go through how many hours that guy sleeps at night when something happens on the screen. There’s- static, a scheme showing up on the feed, touching the guy’s arm and, yeah that could be smoke rising up from his arm. The guy squirms, must be waking up from the pain. The thing immediately disappears and the guy sits up and turns the light on, showing a big red burn mark on his skin.

“Believe me now?” Wooyoung asks and Hongjoong lets out a big breath.

“Yeah, yeah I believe you,” he curses. He doesn’t have time to take on any special cases but Wooyoung is his oldest friend - literally, he showed up one day when Hongjoong was five trying to eat his father’s heart and liver because that’s what gumihos like to do and Hongjoong stopped him with the sheer power of his big cheeks and a pout. He was cute as a five year old, okay. “Yunho-hyung, can you watch my mixture for a couple of hours?”

A confirming aura gets sent his way and he turns back. “So, where does he live?”

-

Park Seonghwa lives in a pre-war building - hah! - which got recently renovated, so there’s proper security locks, but no elevator. Which, in the end, isn’t that bad because it’s only five floors up and not the twenty-eight that Hongjoong lives on. According to Wooyoung, he’s human, enlisted right when he was eighteen, finished culinary school a year ago and works full time as a cook which is why he didn’t notice the burn marks on his hands at first (which is where they appeared in the beginning), has a third and fourth generation kpop girl group addiction - Hongjoong pulls a face at that, but Wooyoung quickly reassures him he’s not a creep - and he’s San’s ex.

Which- okay. Hongjoong was hell bent on being prejudiced against this guy because humans - as much as they need Hongjoong to communicate with their ancestors and to explain to them that no they’re not haunted, their kid is just stealing their money - are usually fucking assholes to spirituals, from the stares, to the discriminatory laws, to the outright violence. Sure, things are getting better - no, they are still not allowed to enlist, not that Hongjoong wants that, but it’s his country too, you know? - and if he’s a friend of Wooyoung, he can’t at least be a full asshole or Wooyoung might have eaten him already, but Hongjoong likes to rather be safe than sorry.

There’s a difference between being friends with someone who could technically eat you if they’re in the mood, but who doesn’t pull out his tails and teeth in front of you and having someone walk around your apartment and do a couple of gut rituals to communicate with the afterworld and that which lies beneath.

“I mean that was before San transitioned and we have not had any kind of profound discussion on what that means for his sexuality, so he might be a dirty het, but they’re still good friends, you know, so he’s cool.”

“Ah.”

“Not that the concept of heterosexuality isn’t very confusing. Or homosexuality. The concept of labels, urgh” Wooyoung shakes his head as a shudder goes through him and Hongjoong gives a tight smile to a passer-by, who gives them a wide berth. Wooyoung tends to be very loud and he doesn’t care what people think about him or how they perceive him because he’s quote unquote  _ too old to be bothered by it _ .

“Because we don’t have nine-hundred years to realise that the constraints of gender and sexuality are only holding us back,” Hongjoong offers quietly as an explanation, as they take the few steps up to the front door.

Wooyoung hums. “Yeah, you guys really drew the short straw.”

“In our favour, we also don’t have to wait nine-hundred years to meet the love of our life.”

“Hey!”

“Would you rather have to wait another nine-hundred years or live one life with San and that’s it?”

And isn’t that the reason why Wooyoung is doing what he’s doing in the first place? Because he doesn’t want to see San grow old and die while he remains - as always - young and immortal? Hongjoong has known Wooyoung for twenty-one years and until he met San he had always assumed that Wooyoung would be around the way he is now when he’s old and wrinkly, still radiant and beautiful on his deathbed. The thought that Wooyoung is willingly giving up his immortality to stay with him is disgustingly romantic, a little bit sad and just reminds Hongjoong of how unfucking-believably single he is.

“Yeah, yeah,” Wooyoung waves his question off. Presses the doorbell and waits for the intercom to answer.

“Yes?”

“Seonghwa-yah, it’s me. I brought my friend!”

“Oh- one moment!”

They get buzzed up a second later and start the long climb up - Hongjoong is not heaving by the third floor, that’s a dirty lie, he’s just admiring the cracks in the walls as he catches his breath - and there’s a door at the end of the hallway slightly ajar.

They both take off their shoes in the entrance and close the door behind themselves, the lock clicking into place. Hongjoong looks around, tries to get a feeling for the place. It’s sparsely decorated, clean and comfortable. Not very high-end but then who outside of dramas can afford that, with an open living area and a kitchen, a tiny bathroom going off from there and a bedroom door that’s open.

It opens wider and out comes- probably one of the most beautiful people Hongjoong has seen in his life. And he knows Yeosang before he had to grow his hair back out after getting back from enlistment.

Park Seonghwa is, if Hongjoong dared to guess, about his age - in his mid-twenties, with black hair that’s shaved at the ears and back, falling long and unstyled into his eyes. He’s tall and even wearing a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, he looks better than ninety-percent of Hongjoon’s customers. Which- is a small consolation, all things considered.

“What were you doing so long,” Wooyoung whines and Park Seonghwa rubs the back of his head.

“I spilled something on my shirt earlier, I had to change.”

“I told you to expect us.”

“I didn’t think you meant today, hyung.” Then he turns around to Hongjoong and bows. “Thank you for coming, I appreciate it. Kim Hongjoong-ssi, right?”

Hongjoong bows back. “Thank you for allowing me into your home, Seonghwa-ssi. What can you tell me about these strange occurrences?”

They started about five weeks ago, seemingly out of nowhere. Park Seonghwa had been tired and exhausted when he came home. He made himself food and cut himself on a packaging with a pair of scissors, realised he was too tired to actually eat it, fell into bed and when he woke up a couple of hours later, there had been an empty bowl on the kitchen counter, his electric kettle had disappeared and his hand had carried a big, palm and finger shaped burn mark.

“I don’t know if it’s truly, the first occurrence,” Park Seonghwa explains, as he shows them the place where his kettle used to be. “I really might have just burnt myself at work, it was a very long day, but after that, I woke up with more burn marks, first on my hands-” he rolls his sleeves up and Hongjoong curses. His hands are covered in little cuts and burns. “Oh no, those really are from work!” And there are a couple of old faded scars, and fresh ones, some scabbed over, some blistering.

“May I?” he asks and reaches out with one hand. Park Seonghwa nods and Hongjoong touches one of the healing ones.

He feels- something. There’s a kind of energy to the wound. Nothing malicious, he thinks, but- desperate, lonely. And whatever it is, it attached itself to this man.

“Anything else? Other things disappearing, apart from your food and kettle?”

He bites his lips. Park Seonghwa, Hongjoong decides, has very good lips. Why is Wooyoung friends with so many handsome people? It’s really not good for his poor gay heart.

“Well, whenever I try to buy a new kettle, it just- breaks.”

“Breaks?”

“Explodes,” he shrugs. “Short-circuits, stops working. At least here. When I try to return them, or someone else uses them they work.”

Hongjoong blinks. “That’s- unusual.”

“True though,” Wooyoung chimes in from his place on the couch. “We have a new kettle now and San even took one to work. Works really well, thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome, hyung,” Seonghwa answers, a bit deadpan and Hongjoong smiles.

“So, do you think I’m being haunted, Hongjoong-ssi?”

Hongjoong tilts his head. Closes his eyes and truly lets the energy seep into him. Then he nods. “Yes, I believe that there’s something here. I can’t tell if it’s a ghost, yet, but I think it’s very likely.”

“Not a gwisin though, right?” There’s a slight panic clinging to his voice and Hongjoong shrugs.

“The energy doesn’t seem malicious, but we can’t rule it out.”

“Great,” Seonghwa laughs. “I watched way too many horror movies for this.”

“At least it’s not a zombie.”

For a moment it’s silent. Then. “Hongjoong-ssi, please don’t tell me zombies really exist.”

“Oh damn, that would be great! Can you imagine yourself as the protagonist of Train to Busan, Kingdom or #Alive?” Wooyoung yells from the couch.

“Doesn’t everyone die in Train to Busan?” Hongjoong turns around to Wooyoung and Wooyoung wiggles his hand once more. “Details, details.”

Seonghwa looks at them with wide eyes and oh shit, Hongjoong does not hang around a lot of humans who don’t really get their kind of humor. “No, zombies don’t exist. Well- of course someone could try to raise the undead, but I’ve never heard of someone doing that successfully.”

“That’s- reassuring. So- how do I- I mean- I assume there’s payment.”

Wooyoung makes a noise of protest, because he always likes for his friends to go free of charge but Hongjoong really can’t afford it. So he nods. “I usually charge 150.000 a day for hauntings,” Park Seonghwa audibly swallows. “But since I don’t know what it is and we will probably have to stake it out for a couple of days, I’ll say 200.000 all in all, no matter if it turns out to be ghost or a gwisin.”

“Oh, that- that sounds great. Thank you, you’re very kind.”

Hongjoong gives him a tight smile. “I’ll take half up front via kakaopayment and then the other half when we’ve sent whatever is bothering you to the afterlife.”

“Of course, let me get my phone.” Park Seonghwa walks off for a moment to get his phone from his bedroom and Wooyoung clicks his tongue at him. “I can’t believe you’re making him pay for that.”

“You know that other shamans charge two hundred thousand a day for  _ every day _ ? I’m giving him a friendship bonus!”

Wooyoung pouts. It is not effective. Maybe a little bit. But Hongjoong will not waver, so when they exchange IDs and his phone pings with a notification of money received, Hongjoong just gives him a polite smile.

“I’ll write you a bill when everything is done so you can claim tax benefits.”

“That’s great. So for now?”

“I’ll do some research and come back- tomorrow, I think, with my stuff.”

Park Seonghwa nods. “I start work at four pm, so I would be grateful for anything before that.”

“Of course. And maybe you can write down anything that seems odd to you. Are your burns more severe when your food disappears, things like that.”

“I’ll try to remember it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

-

“I’m home,” he yells when he closes the door behind himself. Yunho appears next to him out of thin air and smiles.

“You had four visits for urgent appointments before Chuseok from customers. I showed them the cards we prepared and they left their numbers-” There’s a bit of a flicker to Yunho and Hongjoong tilts his head.

“You’re feeling alright?”

“Hm, yes, of course. Just- lots of interactions today, makes me feel jittery.”

Hongjoong hums. “How is the ginseng?”

“Drying.”

He nods. That’s what it's supposed to do. He doesn’t need a lot of stuff, just a few plants to draw out anything otherworldly that doesn’t want to come at his own call, but his powers are strong enough that he can see and interact with them on his own. Case in point: his roommate.

Yunho belongs to the apartment, that much Hongjoong knows. He’s been here since before it was built, lived and died in the house that stood here before which was torn down to set a giant apartment complex on its fundaments. Hongjoong doesn’t really know how long Yunho has been dead. Long enough that he has no family left. Long enough that he’s alone. Long enough that he should move on to the afterlife. Not that Hongjoong wants that. Yunho is his best friend and he loves him, but- he worries sometimes. It’s not good to be tethered to this world without any anchor for too long. He doesn’t want Yunho to turn into a gwisin.

“Did Wooyoung’s case turn out to be something?” Yunho asks, when Hongjoong drops his back and cracks his neck. He moves past the entrance/shop and into the kitchen area that's shielded from view by a big shelf to get himself something to eat. Yunho follows him, as always interested in anything outside their apartment.

“Yes, there’s- well something is haunting the client. I’ll do some work, put the appointments into my calendar and then I’ll get out eomma’s book to find out what it is.”

“Sounds good,” Yunho says and flickers again. “Tell me if you need help; I’ll watch some youtube.”

-

Hongjoong learnt that he was different very early on. He doesn’t remember being sick and being initiated but by the time he was three, he knew that he could see things other people couldn’t see. It was never a problem for him. His mother – being a mudang herself – had hoped to pass on her abilities to her children. So they all knew that she was different and when Hongjoong waddled in on her conversing with a ghost while she was telling the ghost’s family what their last wishes were and he could see the ghost, his mother had been overjoyed.

She had been less overjoyed that Hongjoong made friends with a gumiho who wanted to eat her husband, when he wasn’t even in elementary school but Wooyoung promised not to eat any members of their family and he only hung around occasionally until Hongjoong decided to move to Seoul when he was sixteen and Wooyoung needed a change of space - where no one knew him. While everyone knows what gumiho are, as those spirits that can be actually dangerous to humans, they tend to be heavily stigmatized. Especially, when people realised they’d been friends with one. So they came to Seoul and Hongjoong worked odd jobs, learnt even more about muism and shindo from a friend of his mother’s, Eden, who took him under his wing reluctantly. He worked, and he made a name for himself and Wooyoung stuck by his side. When Hongjoong could finally afford his own place - and thus shop - he met Yunho and Wooyoung spent a year trying out university where he met Yeosang and his boyfriend Jongho and through them he met San and-

“Then San dumped me for Wooyoung and here we are,” Seonghwa adds to Hongjoong’s explanation and Hongjoong blinks at him.

“Um.”

“I apologize,” Seonghwa says. “I don’t mean to make things awkward. We broke up for a number of reasons, only one was Wooyoung-hyung. My feelings were only slightly hurt and it’s been four years after all.”

Hongjoong doesn’t know much about the time Wooyoung and San got together, knows that it took them longer than Wooyoung wanted because San had a boyfriend back then, but he never thought that they were both still friends with him.

And- Wooyoung is his oldest friend. But who would break up with someone like Park Seonghwa? Hongjoong really isn’t a superficial person, but he truly can’t imagine it.

“And they are better together.”

Hongjoong hums. Picks out a couple of instruments and lights the herbs on fire.

“Where do you need me?” Seonghwa asks and Hongjoong points to a place right in front of him.

“Sit down in front of me please.”

Seonghwa sits down, his long legs folded underneath him and he looks nervous. Jittery. “It’s not going to hurt. I will try to call the ghost out if they’re here and the gods should help me.”

“Gods,” Seonghwa echoes. “Yeah, that’s. Sure.”

He’s as uncomfortable with it as most humans are which Hongjoong gets. He knows that the gods he worships, one of which possessed his body as a small child, exist. But he doesn’t know if they’re all powerful, the way some baksu and mudang believe. They just- are. And for him that’s enough.

“Are you ready?”

Seonghwa nods. Hongjoong really wants to help him, especially as there's a new burn mark on Seonghwa's shoulder. 

“Then lets us begin.”

-

There’s nothing. Absolutely nothing, but lingering energy as if- as if-

“Maybe it only comes out at night?” Yunho offers and Hongjoong raises his head up from the table, where he had been silently screaming.

“Why would it only come out at night?” Ghosts and gwisins aren’t typically drawn to a certain time, even if movies and dramas like to make it seem like that.

“Well, it has only come out at night so far, right?”

Huh. Yunho’s logic makes sense.

**Park Seonghwa-ssi (Wooyoung)**

Hello Seonghwa-ssi, can you please light the contents of the small black box on fire in your room right before you go to bed?

You want me to sleep with an open fire?

They’ll burn quickly! I think it might help draw the ghost out enough that it sticks around afterwards

Alright…

“You could just do it yourself and talk with them.”

“I will not watch him sleep, that would be an invasion of privacy, Yunho-hyung.”

Just because Seonghwa is incredibly attractive doesn’t mean that Hongjoong is a creep and interested. His personality might still be garbage, he might be straight, he might be an asshole. There’s a difference between physical attraction and romantic attraction. Just because Hongjoong would most likely climb him like a tree doesn’t mean that he should. Or that it’s even on the table.

“Maybe invasion of privacy is a good thing, sometimes. Might help your love life.” Hongjoong gives him a long look.

“My love life is good the way it is.”

“Nonexistent?”

He boxes Yunho against the shoulder and for a second his form flickers again, his eyes going white and Hongjoong gets up onto his knees. “Hyung, what’s wrong?”

Yunho just stares into nothingness. His energy grows so thick, Hongjoong can practically taste it. And then it’s gone and Yunho’s form goes a bit transparent, his eyes flickering around aimlessly.

“What- what happened?”

“You- are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Yunho mumbles. Disappears and appears in front of the room that he likes to keep in when he wants to be alone. “I’m gonna- Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Hongjoong says and swallows. It’s- This is not a good sign.

-

He wakes up to his own ringtone at four in the morning.

“-lo?” he answers it, groggily, the light nearly blinding him in the process.

“What the hell did you do?!” Wooyoung screams at him. “Bring your fucking med-kit and get your ass here immediately!”

“What-” That wakes him up. He sits upright in his bed. “What are you talking about?”

“Go get to Seonghwa's now!”

Shit. Shit. Oh no.

“I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

He hangs up and throws on some clothes, grabs his pack and some medicinal supplies. “Yunho-hyung I’ll be gone for a while,” he yells, but gets no answer. When he looks at the place on the couch where Yunho usually hangs out,it's empty. Huh. Maybe he’s hanging out in the bathroom again.

And then he’s off, running to the metro station, waiting ages for the next one to arrive. It takes him way longer than he wants to get there and, when he does, a frightened San opens the door for him.Well- he knows why Wooyoung got so mad at him.

The previous marks have been painful, but they weren’t deep. They were on his arms and his hands, his shoulder previously.

This one, this one is bad. Mostly, because it’s not just one. There’s one on his neck, deep and red, bleeding and oozing. And one on his cheek, flesh burnt away. Hongjoong isn’t sure if he can see through his cheek or if he’s just imagining it, but it’s really not going great. There are tears running down Park Seonghwa’s cheeks, right into the open wound and Hongjoong doesn’t know what to do. The whole apartment swims in energy, but this time-

It’s still lonely, it’s still confused, but now it’s hurt. The incense Hongjoong had left, that Seonghwa had burnt, had hurt the being.

It’s not supposed to. It’s not supposed to hurt ghosts, that is. So whatever it is, it’s more powerful. And they just pissed it off majorly.

-

“I am so sorry,” Hongjoong says again. “I should have been here.”

Seonghwa is quiet. Understandable. Talking most likely hurts him. “I’ll fix you up in no time, just give me a moment to prepare.”

He gets out his instruments, water and a lighter and cracks his neck. It’s been a while since he danced and put himself in trance, but it’s necessary now.

“What is he doing?” San whispers and Wooyoung shushes him.

“He’s calling upon the god who gave him his powers, hoping that they’ll allow him to heal Seonghwa-ya’s wounds.”

Seonghwa makes a distressed noise and Hongjoong gets it. He’s not thrilled to let his body be used, but well-

He begins dancing, begs the lord of his body to intervene- and he blacks out.

-

When he comes to himself, he’s sitting on the floor and his whole body is tingling. His skin feels too small for his body as it usually does when he invites a higher being into it to work their magic through him. Wooyoung is at his side, a hand against his back, supporting him. It’s only then that he notices that he must not have sat down on his own, but that his legs most likely gave out under him.

Seonghwa and San are both staring at him with wide eyes and Hongjoong tries his best to shake any self-consciousness off. Humans usually don’t like seeing gut rituals; it makes them uncomfortable because for them it either means that Hongjoong is suffering from a severe psychosis that puts him into a state of seizures and incoherent screaming or it means that higher beings are real.

It’s safe to say that Hongjoong has had to field a lot of attempted institutionalisations in his time, even from the people who hired him and should know that this is something that might happen. But well, humans.

“Hyung, are you, alright?” San asks and Hongjoong takes a long breath. He nods.

His eyes immediately move to Seonghwa, taking in the perfectly unmarred skin. There’s not a single scratch or scab on him, even the small burns from his work are gone. He thanks the lord of his body silently and promises a sacrifice as soon as he gets home – and can afford to buy some expensive meat or drink.

“You- what-“ Seonghwa looks at him with wide eyes. One of his hands is on his face and he picks up his phone to look at himself in the front camera, staring at Hongjoong. “You healed me.”

Hongjoong hums. “Yes, that’s what I do.” He’s exhausted. This took more from him than he expected. “I apologize again, Seonghwa-ssi. It’s-“ he shudders as his whole body becomes cold. “It’s not a ghost. It’s-“

“Stronger,” Wooyoung finishes. “I don’t think you should stay here tonight.”

Hongjoong shakes his head. “I- I don’t think it’ll attack again tonight. Its energy has mellowed out again; it was the incense that hurt it. I’ll do more research and I think it’s best if I spend a night here, light the incense again and confront it.”

“You want to piss it off again?” San asks and it’s obvious that he’s not happy with it. Seonghwa himself looks pale and Hongjoong gets it, he does, but- there’s really nothing to be done about it.

“If we want it gone, yes, we have to confront it.”

“You don’t even know what it is, hyung.”

“Which is why I’ll figure it out.”

“He’s right, Hongjoong-ah,” Wooyoung chimes in. “You should be a hundred percent sure what it is, before you endanger anyone again.”

“I’m sure of what it is now,” he defends himself. “It’s not a ghost, it hurts him, therefore it must be a gwisin. And I’ll be with him the whole time.”

“How about-“ Seonghwa interrupts. “You will do your research, Hongjoong-ssi, and we will wait a couple of days, just so that it doesn’t get angry if we attack it so soon and then- we’ll see?”

Hongjoong purses his lips. There’s a good chance it will start attacking Seonghwa every night now, more severely, like it had done today. But- in the end Seonghwa is his customer and if Seonghwa says they should leave it be for a couple of days, Hongjoong will accept that. He has to. No use working with someone unwilling.

“Fine. But- if there’s anything strange happening, you need to tell me. And I’ll still need the timetable.”

“Hongjoong,” Wooyoung says, so much more gentle than Hongjoong is used from him. “Let’s talk about this tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I apologize again, Seonghwa-ssi,” he bows his head and staggers to his feet. “I’ll come up with a good plan.”

“It’s not your fault.”

But it is. He should have known that something was different, he should have known that something was severely wrong, and now he and his client are suffering the consequences. He says goodbye to everyone and walks to the front door on his own.

He doesn’t turn the light on, pulls his shoes on in the dark when he can suddenly feel a burst of energy again. It’s weak, weaker than it has ever been before. The mirror next to the door fogs up suddenly and Hongjoong holds his breath.

A character appears on the mirror. Another one next to it. Then one under. A new word. More characters. Five syllables.

_ Thank you. _

What. What the hell?

The fog disappears, only to show up again immediately. Hongjoong reaches out with his hand and holds it right before the mirror. It feels hot.

It starts writing. One syllable – do – and another – wa – and then five more.

_ Help me. _

And Hongjoong realises that he has no idea what’s going on.

-

“Yunho-hyung,” Hongjoong whisper-yells, aware that it’s six in the morning and a couple of his neighbours had night shifts. “Yunho-hyung, I think we might have a problem!”

No answer. Hongjoong looks around in the apartment, peeks into every room, but even Yunho’s room is empty. What- How is that possible? Yunho is a ghost – still – he can’t leave the apartment – yet – and Hongjoong doesn’t like to think about a time where Yunho will be able to leave, when he isn’t tethered anymore, when he has turned into the one thing that they both dread and fear.

“Yunho-hyung!” He calls, louder, because maybe Yunho is just hiding in the pipes, maybe he’s just being a little shit who likes to fuck with Hongjoong.

And then he appears in front of Hongjoong, looking- very non-translucent.

Oh, oh.

“Hyung?” Hongjoong asks and Yunho turns his head towards him. There’s little going on behind his eyes and Hongjoong can feel his own hand starting to shake. No, no, no. “Hey, you alright?”

He asks and then a shudder goes through Yunho and he turns translucent again, his brown eyes peering curiously at Hongjoong. His energy is wonky, a bit weak, with random bursts of strength that should not be there.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be alright?” he looks around, confused. Must wonder how he got here. “Why are you awake at 6 a.m.”

“Consultation,” Hongjoong quickly answers and clasps his hands together so Yunho doesn’t see them shaking. “I called for you when I left, where were you?”

For a moment, Yunho is silent. “Uh-“ He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember what he did the past few hours and Hongjoong knows that’s how it starts and he hates it. “I think I was hanging out in the fridge.”

“Okay. But- you know if you feel weird, you need to tell me, right?”

There are things that Hongjoong can do, rituals he can perform to tether Yunho to himself. Yunho doesn’t like that, has said so himself. Tethering them together would mean that they’d be constantly together. He doesn’t want to be tethered to someone who will one day move away, who will meet other people, who only does it so that he doesn’t become a gwisin. It’s the only way to stop it though, Hongjoong knows that. That, or Yunho could make a profound connection with something that can keep him here. Or move on to the afterlife. It’s just that he doesn’t want that. And Hongjoong doesn’t like how the alternatives look right now.

“Yeah of course. So why were you out?”

And Hongjoong tells him what happened. The more they talk, the more Yunho seems to come back to the present, which is great.

“So you think it’s a gwisin?” Yunho asks him, after Hongjoong has finished. They’re in the small kitchen now, because performing rituals always makes him feel incredibly hungry. He’s not usually a breakfast person, but his stomach is growling so he scoops out the last bits of rice from the rice cooker, stares into the fridge until he finds some cooked leftover chicken from three days ago that – upon a smell – still seems to be good and throws some kimchi into a pan with the rice – he really has to steal a new container from his mother when he sees her next because he’s running dangerously low and fries an egg in the other half of the pan.

“It’s stronger than a ghost and it got hurt by the incense. It wasn’t supposed to do that, which means it has a corporal form.” Which would most likely mean gwisin.

Hongjoong stares at his food. Is the egg ready for flipping? He can’t tell. When does one flip an egg? When did he last fry an egg? He usually cooks them or just mixes them into his rice. When he cooks, which isn’t often. Most of the time he orders his meals from coupang or just buys something on the streets.

He decides to flip it. The underside of the egg sticks to his spatula. Shit.

“It explains why it would hurt him.”

“But why would it ask for help?” Yunho asks and Hongjoong tilts his head. The egg looks like a mess and he sighs before digging into it, scrambling it and just mixing it under the rice like he usually does. That’s what he gets for cooking himself. He should have just bought a roll of gimbap at the food stall outside his building and be done with it. Oh, how he misses his mother's self made gimbap. “Isn’t that strange.”

“It-“ he bites his lips. Doesn’t know if he should approach the topic like this. “It might not be fully gwisin yet, maybe it hasn’t become vengeful completely, so it has moments of clarity.”

He doesn’t want to think about what Yunho’s own confusion and disappearance means. That one day soon Yunho might be the one haunting Hongjoong with no memory of his past life and his personality erased by madness inside of him. If Hongjoong could just get him to move on to the afterlife…

Something ticks in Yunho’s jaw and he crosses his arms, obviously uncomfortable. “So what do we do?” But it seems like he doesn’t want to talk about it with Hongjoong, which- understandable. Having a conversation about their emotions. Ridiculous.

“Research,” he says before taking the pan off the stove and dumping everything in a bowl. “But first breakfast.”

-

The gwisin lays low for a couple of days. Long enough that Seonghwa seems to be able to sit down and write down all the instances he can remember, without constantly looking over his shoulder. At least that’s what he tells Hongjoong, when he shows up at his shop/apartment. Hongjoong didn’t expect any visitors, has no appointments today which is why there are several offerings to a bunch of different gods and ancestors lying around the apartment. He nearly falls over a chicken leg that’s lying around and he’s not dressed appropriately - sweatpants, a stained shirt and his hair up in a bun at the top of his head - and Seonghwa looks- he looks good. He’s wearing jeans and a button up and his hair isn’t done, but still looking better than Hongjoong in every aspect of the way.

“Just, ignore this,” Hongjoong tells him, as Seonghwa stops to look at a certain offering that Hongjoong had only touched with gloves.

“Is that-”

“Yes,” he says, not even looking in the direction.

“Is it used?”

“Yes. Apparently it was his favourite.”

“And you put branches and herbs in the … opening because-”

“It guarantees a deeper connection and will hopefully allow his friends and family to communicate with him once more.”

“Through a flesh-”

“Don’t,” he interrupts him. “Please just- don’t make me think about it.”

For a moment, Seonghwa is silent. Then he clears his throat. “One question?”

Hongjoong hums as he guides them to a table and a couple of chairs that he uses for consultations. Usually. Now, there’s his laptop, his tablet, a cup with crushed herbs and a big notepad full of ideas and research. Possibly also some leftover food from last week.

“Who brought it?” At his questioning look Seonghwa, explains. “Did his mother come in with his favourite sex toy or-”

“Oh!” Hongjoong laughs. “It was his grandmother, actually.”

“His grandmother.”

“Hmm, tiny women, carrying that giant ... thing and looking very serious. Best part of my week, to be honest.”

Seonghwa laughs and Hongjoong realises he’s never heard him laugh before. It’s a sound that strikes him, stopping him in his step and just- makes him happy.

“Please sit,” he motions towards one of the chairs in an attempt to overplay how absolutely unchill the thought of Seonghwa being happy makes him - he shouldn’t be invested in his client’s happiness, he should only care about the money, but- somehow he feels responsible. He doesn’t know why. Maybe because he fucked it up at first. That must be it.

Seonghwa sits down, looking around curiously, but not judgingly which is another point in his favour.

He fiddles with his phone. “I tried to remember as best as I could, but I might have forgotten about some things.”

“That’s perfectly fine.”

“I’ll just-” Hongjoong’s phone pings. It’s a message with a detailed list of the past five weeks. There are maybe ten days in total that are not filled but most of them are filled with instances.

18.08. small burn on chest, missing chicken from the fridge

[...]

23.08. hand shaped burn on upper arm, empty rice cooker

[...]

10.09. blister on finger, might be from cooking

[...]

19.09. handprint upper back, whole package of rice cakes gone

[...]

21.09. burn on face and neck

Hongjoong reads it all, dread growing in his stomach. He looks at Seonghwa, at his unmarred face and hands and he wonders. What kind of being could do something like that to him? What is it gaining? What is its purpose?

Of course, deep down Hongjoong knows that a gwisin can’t control itself, that whatever it was that was human inside of it has long disappeared and that it’s only driven by the need to hurt and destroy. But- why is it stealing food?

He feels Yunho’s presence next to him and holds his phone out to him so that he can read.

“What do you think?” he asks and Yunho hums.

“It’s strange- the stealing.”

“Yeah, gwisin don’t eat do they?”

Yunho shakes his head. His hands are trembling a bit as his fingers hover over the phone. “I’m wondering if it opened the fridge or if it was able to go through it.”

“Is that important?”

“I’ve never heard of a gwisin that steals and can open things.”

“Um-” Seonghwa makes and Hongjoong looks at him. His eyes are wide, his mouth open and he’s looking at Hongjoong as if he’s lost it.

“Oh!” Hongjoong exclaims and moves his hand up so that he touches Yunho. A shudder goes through them both as Yunho’s energy clings to his physical form and then- Seonghwa jumps to his feet.

“What the hell,” Seonghwa screams.

“Seonghwa-ssi, please meet Jeong Yunho.”

“Seonghwa-ssi,” Yunho says and inclines his head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about your problem.”

“You,” Seonghwa blinks. Looks at both of them. “What- you weren’t here before.”

“I’m a ghost,” Yunho explains.

“You’re dead?”

“Hm, have been since- well, I don’t remember.”

“A couple of decades,” Hongjoong interjects and grinds his teeth. Yunho used to talk about it all the time, about what he remembered of his life, but never enough that they could put down a specific year or decade. Why isn’t he remembering that now? (Of course, Hongjoong knows the reason, he just doesn’t want to think about it.) “He is tethered to this apartment and he’s been my roommate since I moved in.”

“Oh.”

Seonghwa still looks shocked. Frightened. Which- really is a bit of an overreaction, isn’t it, with- Yunho is staring at him. Overtly. Not in a way that is appropriate. There’s something in his eyes, the white slowly giving way to black, his energy. Hongjoong nearly chokes on it, that’s how dark it is. Hongjoong clears his throat. The energy disappears and Yunho smiles.

“I will leave you to it, but I’ll try to remember if I ever heard of a similar case.” He nods in Seonghwa’s reaction. “It was nice to meet you, Seonghwa-ssi.”

“Of course,” Seonghwa answers. “It was nice to meet you too, Yunho-ssi.”

Hongjoong takes his hand away and feels Yunho move towards the private rooms, probably to will the TV to open up netflix. He’ll have to check and see if it worked in a couple of minutes.

For a moment, it’s all quiet as Hongjoong stares at the notes on his phone. Yunho is right, something- something is wrong. Something doesn’t fit, but he doesn’t understand what it is. What kind of gwisin does the things this one does? What is its goal? Is it after Seonghwa in particular? Is the food an indicator?

“Did someone die at work on that day your kettle disappeared?” he asks. When he receives no answer, he looks up and finds Seonghwa looking at him with warriness. “Is everything alright?”

For a moment, Seonghwa remains silent. Then, he swallows. “I- I don’t think I’ve seen a ghost before. I assumed they were all evil.”

“Oh.” He blinks. “Does it make you uncomfortable? Yunho-hyung is harmless, he’s just watching netflix in the next room.” He’s harmless for now but Hongjoong doesn’t want to get into it. Seonghwa doesn’t need to be worried about a soon to be gwisin living in Hongjoong’s apartment. That’s something Hongjoong will have to take care off, when the day comes.

“No- it’s. I don’t know.” A shaky smile appears on Seonghwa’s face. “I think it’s fine, it’s just- surprising.” He clears his throat. “But to answer your question, no. Neither a co-worker nor a patron died around the time.”

Shit. There goes that idea.

Hongjoong leans back. Rubs absentmindedly at his stomach when it growls. “I think I’ll have to dive deep down into the research again,” he says. He doesn’t like how it makes him feel. He should know what kind of ghost it is, his mother taught him so much.

“Of course,” Seonghwa seems to hesitate. “But in the meantime, do you m- would you- You sounded hungry, and I haven’t eaten yet.”

“Oh- um.” Truth be told Hongjoong has never had lunch with a client. Some of them bring food sometimes, especially the younger ones, but it’s usually just chicken or something. But then, Seonghwa isn’t necessarily a regular customer, he’s more of a friend of a friend. So- it should be fine, right.

“I don’t have any food at home.”

“There’s a Mr Pizzas around the corner, isn’t there?” Oh yes, true. Hongjoong hasn’t eaten there in a while because it’s always so crowded with workers and university students even if he’s fucking in love with their sweet potato crust. “Of course I don’t want to stop you from your work, Hongjoong-ssi.”

“Oh no, no don’t worry,” he bites his lips. “Let me check on Yunho and then we can go.”

When has he last gone out to eat with someone? It must have been ages. He’s so busy and he spends so much time working and eating garbage inside.

In the other room, Yunho managed to turn on Netflix by himself and he nods with absent eyes as Hongjoong informs him he’ll be going out. While he’s in his own rooms, he puts on a proper shirt and an unstained pair of pants, brushes his hair real quick and checks himself in the mirror.

There, he looks much more sociable like this and not like a fucking human disaster.

When he comes out again, he finds Seonghwa with his hands in his research and Hongjoong stops, heart beating fast. What the hell. Is Seonghwa snooping? Trying to steal from him? But then he pulls something wrapped in tinfoil out, something that’s- oh- that’s his lunch from earlier this week. Seonghwa pulls a face and throws it into the trashcan before settling back onto his chair, folding his hands and looking exactly like Hongjoong left him. Or- well- he smoothes some of the papers down and shuffles them just a tiny bit around. It looks still like a mess, but a bit more organized.

“I’m ready,” he says and Seonghwa turns around, looking very much like he didn’t just go through a stranger’s belongings to throw out their trash. Seonghwa gives him a once over, taking in his new clothes and Hongjoong tries his best not to feel self-conscious. He should have felt like that earlier, not now.

They walk to the pizza place and thankfully the lunch rush must be over right now because they actually get a table and there are only a couple of businessmen and women and a foreign couple there, photographing their strange korean pizza – it's not the first time he's seen it. They decide against the all-you-can-eat salad and pizza bar even though it’s only a whooping 9,000 won and both get a la carte. Hongjoong gets OmyRyb with his beloved sweet-potato crust and Seonghwa chooses Seafood Island 2.

“So how long have you been a-” Seonghwa falters. “Shaman?”

“Baksu,” Hongjoong explains. “Since I was three. My mother is one as well and she thought she saw something in me. She didn’t realise at first that I had passed initiation. She just assumed I had gotten sick and then I came in and was able to see a ghost.”

“Initiation?” Seonghwa asks and Hongjoong leans in to tell him.

It’s nice, speaking about it with someone. The people Hongjoong hangs out with usually know what’s going on because they are also spiritual in some way and the humans he meets have a very negative image of shamanism. Confucianism and then the rising force of christianity really fucked them over in that regard.

But Seonghwa just seems interested, asking questions and making noises here and there. Thankfully, they don’t get into the topic of religion because if Hongjoong has to explain once more that, yes, he believes in science, but he also believes that there are energies all around them which is proven by the fact that one of those energies is sitting on his bed right now and watches  _ It’s Okay To Not Be Okay _ then he’ll scream.

“So why cooking?” he asks, when they've both been served their pizza and taken a bite out of their slices. Hongjoong nearly moans when the filling of the sweet potato crust hits his mouth and Seonghwa chuckles.

“Well, I enjoyed it and I didn’t really know what to do after I came back from the military. So I went to culinary school, thinking I would drop out again, but- it’s a passion of mine now.”

Lucky bastard. Hongjoong is so bad at cooking as he shows time and time again, but that’s mostly because he really doesn’t care about it. He likes food, but he doesn’t like cooking. At all.

“So going out to eat must not be very rewarding to you?”

Seonghwa hums. There’s a bit of string cheese sticking to his lips and he licks it up with his tongue. Which- Hongjoong doesn’t look at. No.

“It’s nice to eat other people’s food sometimes. I enjoy cooking at home and cooking for the people I care about, but I don’t like it being expected, just because I like it. I don’t want to force myself to work at home.”

Hongjoong hums. That makes sense. It’s why he doesn’t rely on his powers for the easiest things, why he enjoys sometimes just not knowing if it will rain and getting drenched in water because not everything has to be controlled by his powers. Not every person of any gender has to fall to Wooyoung’s feet either but then Wooyoung is a bit of an attention whore and he will enjoy it as long as he can.

“But then, I haven’t had to cook for anyone recently,” Seonghwa admits and Hongjoong raises his eyebrows.

“Oh?”

Seonghwa’s face grows a bit pink. “Oh- well with the- whole situation I haven’t had many people over and-” he breaks off. “I do not want to impose on Wooyoung’s and San’s time too much, especially because the days I’m available in the evening, are usually the ones they have for themselves. The same goes for Jongho and Yeosang,” He shrugs. “As a single person it’s always hard not to impose on them.”

“I agree,” Hongjoong nods and takes another bite. “It’s- We are all always so busy and our time is limited and couples-” Couples are special. It’s been ages since Hongjoong had anyone to text all the time, to meet up with every free minute and let’s not even speak of celebrating any 100 day anniversary or something going further than that. “They never tell you you’re not welcome, of course, but you don’t want to impose.”

“Exactly. And meeting people-” Seonghwa sighs. “Meeting people is difficult.”

The only guys Hongjoong has ever dated were those who he’s been introduced to by their and his friends. He doesn’t think he has any desire to meet someone who hasn’t been vetted by his friends, but then- his friends haven’t met any new people they could introduce him to recently either. And he’s not someone for mindless hook-ups or parties.

“Try meeting guys,” he says, quietly, aware of the people around them but then also realising that he still doesn’t know what’s Seonghwa’s deal - but then he’s still friends with San, Wooyoung, Yeosang and Jogho, so how bigoted can he be? Seonghwa chuckles.

“It’s not easy,” he agrees and Hongjoong’s head snaps up. Wait. What? “Definitely not if you’re looking for a relationship.”

Hongjoong blinks. Did he? He narrows his eyes. “Yeah. A lot of the guys” his voice drops lower once more. “you meet are only interested in hooking up, right?”

Seongwha nods. Holy shit. Not a dirty het after all. “It’s- I’m twenty-six and of course I’m not interested in getting married right now, because my career is important, but- At the same time I feel too old to change my partner every week, no matter what gender they are,” at that, Seonghwa’s voice also grows quieter. “I’d just like someone to share responsibilities with who can become an equal partner in the journey we undertake.” He laughs. “Which makes me feel like I’m fifty, I think.”

Hongjoong shakes his head. “No, no, I agree. Of course the thrill and excitement of new relationships is well- exciting but- with the corporate world sucking us up, I think stability is something incredibly sexy.” Especially to a freelancer like him. “And I think it’s why most people I know are in a relationship. They enjoy sharing the weight of adult life with someone else.”

“Yes, that’s it.”

They look at each other in silence for a moment and Hongjoong can’t believe he’s just had this conversation with a stranger. Just- dropped one of his deepest darkest needs - stability in life - on someone like that. Someone who’s a client.

When Seonghwa excuses himself to go to the restroom, Hongjoong takes this moment to let his face fall into his hands. What an idiot he is, just laying himself open like that but- he can’t explain it. It feels like he’s able to talk to Seonghwa so easily, now that they have talked about private issues once. As if he gets him. As if he can rely on him. Which is probably one of the dumbest things he’s ever thought after having one (1) meaningful conversation with someone but- He can’t stop himself. He’s so single, he’s even imagining depth with strangers right now. Great job, Hongjoong.

When Seonghwa returns, they don’t immediately speak about their deepest insecurities again. Instead, Seonghwa tells him about a waiter at work, who keeps mixing up the orders. He also tells stories the waiters tell them about how interesting it is that foreigners will wait for up to an hour for their food to be done and will be surprised when it doesn’t take long, but how koreans will get so impatient and Hongjoong finds himself laughing, knowing how impatient he himself is and how rude his own mother can be. Of course, never to the staff themselves - interestingly, that’s something he has noticed with foreigners before, because they absolutely will be - but his mother will be muttering and complaining quietly and then still thank the staff, give them a big tip and complain about it again and again. And then still go to the same restaurant again.

By the time both of their plates are finished and there’s only a small bite left of Seonghwa’s pizza, it’s been over an hour and Hongjoong should really get back to his apartment. It’s-

He interrupts his own thought when he feels something. Something creeping up on him that hadn’t been there before. Searching, finding, happiness and hope and - hunger?

It’s only because he looks at Seonghwa’s plate right that moment that he sees the rest of the pizza slice disappear. Seonghwa sees it too. His eyes widen and he reaches out with his hand towards where the pizza just was. His hand moves too close to his glass of water and he’ll hit it and spill all of it, it’s obvious but then-

The glass fogs up. Moves to the side, out of reach. Seonghwa flinches. There are dents in the sleeve of his button up and then they’re gone.

When Seonghwa rolls his sleeve up, the skin under it is red and warm. The glass is heated up as well.

“What the hell,” Seonghwa curses. And Hongjoong- Hongjoong swallows.

The ghost, gwisin, whatever it is. It’s back. And it’s not tethered to Seonghwa’s building. It’s tethered to Seonghwa himself.

-

They part in front of the pizza place and Hongjoong power walks home. He needs to call his mother. He needs to ask her for help. Maybe Eden too. One of them has to know what’s happening and what all of this is.

But when he enters his flat, he nearly chokes on the energy bashing into him like a wall.

There are papers on the floor, chairs turned around, the tap is running and everything that isn’t bolted to the floor or the wall is shaking, as if there’s a tiny earthquake happening.

“Yunho-hyung!” Hongjoong yells, just as something that might be a picture frame shoots past him. Oh shit. “I’m home, where are you?”

He runs through the mess on the floor, definitely cuts his bare feet on something and slips on what must be - yes, the rest the lunch Seonghwa threw away, having spilled out of the fallen down trash can. Trying to open the door to his bedroom, Hongjoong finds it locked. He didn’t lock it.

“Yunho-hyung! It’s me, open up!”

For a moment, nothing happens. And then Hongjoong can finally open the door and he finds Yunho- floating. In the middle of the room. Just staring into nothingness, his eyes almost completely black.

“Yunho-hyung?” Hongjoong asks. “Hey, it’s me, can you hear me?”

Yunho looks over to him. Slowly. A shudder goes through his body and then he disappears, only to appear in the same space, just a meter below, right on the floor. He’s shaking, swaying from side to side.

Hongjoong moves towards him, touching him, grounding him, mumbling call backs for him and then Yunho flickers and the energy disappears. Yunho sags forward, wraps his arms around Hongjoong.

“I’m sorry,” he sobs against Hongjoong’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I don’t want to be like this, please help me, please help me.”

Hongjoong nods. “Don’t worry, hyung, we’ll fix you.”

-

The first thing Hongjoong does is get out two amulets that are supposed to bind things together and make them both wear it. It’s not the best solution, nor will it work until eternity, but for now it will help to bind Yunho to him and thus to this world. Until they figure out if he can actually tether Yunho to himself, to the apartment or send him to the afterlife. He doesn’t want to do the last one and he knows Yunho doesn’t want to leave either but- what else can he do.

Then he starts cleaning - Yunho helps a bit, his corporeal form stronger, now that he’s bound to Hongjoong - and then he realises he dragged blood all over his apartment.

In the middle of brewing something to heal his foot, he gets a text from Wooyoung.

**Wooyoungie-hyungnim the Great**

lmao what did you do to seonghwa?

he texted me saying he’s sorry and that he overshared a lot

we just had a heart to heart about companionship and relationships

interesting 👀

as in you and him and companionships and relationships?

no just in general

boo you whore

excuse me?

sorry, sannie made me watch some american movie from the early 00s when you were all toddlers

you really want to use that as a drag?

you’re dating someone who was a toddler when that movie came out

and you were a toddler when goryo was invaded by the jurchen do you really want to go there, hyung

yikes

go me i guess

but please tell him that everything is alright i quite enjoyed our lunch together and he doesn’t have to feel bad

your lunch together 👀

shut up

san. 00s. toddler

you shut up

but i’ll tell him when he comes tomorrow he’s usually dead on fridays after work

thanks

“Do you have something to wipe away the blood?” Yunho asks him, just as Hongjoong starts dabbing the foul smelling paste on his foot. It’s horrible and it makes his eyes water, but it’ll heal him within a couple of minutes and isn’t that the goal?

“I think it can wait; it’s probably all dried up already,” he waves the concern off and Yunho hovers.

“Yeah, but-”

“Hm?”

“Dokkaebi? I’m not sure if you’re warded against them.”

Ah shit. No, he hadn’t considered that. “No, you’re right, let me just,” he points at his foot and wiggles his hands. “And then I’ll help you.”

**Park Seonghwa-ssi (Wooyoung)**

Hello Seonghwa-ssi I wanted to thank you for having lunch with me today

Oh no need to thank me, I practically forced you to spend time with me I’m so sorry

Nothing to be sorry for I quite enjoyed myself

You are not bad company

“Smooth.”

“Please be quiet, hyung.”

Hongjoong is on the floor, on his knees, scrubbing it as much as he can, because Yunho is correct, he doesn’t want to create any dokkaebi who could haunt him and he’s texting Seonghwa on the side, because the last thing he wants is for him to feel like he did something wrong. Of course, they should have a strictly professional relationship and Hongjoong usually is very professional, especially with the humans that he interacts with but- there’s something about Seonghwa that draws him to the human, something that just- clicks between them.

He can’t even explain it properly, it’s strange. He’s never felt like this before with a stranger.

Haha thank you Hongjoong-ssi

But I will try not to impose on you again

I am not usually someone who overshares especially in a professional setting

Oh please overshare

“Oh dear.”

I mean you’re a friend of a friend so it’s perfectly fine to talk about things

haha

Even if we’re in a work relationship right now

Or. work thing

Hongjoong watches with horror as it switches from “Park Seonghwa-ssi (Wooyoung) is typing” to just his name and back a couple of times. Great work Hongjoong, absolutely groundbreaking. What an absolute idiot.

And then, because Hongjoong is an even bigger idiot, he adds,

I really enjoyed talking with you

We should do it again after you know everything is done haha

Next to him, Yunho is hovering on the floor, his whole form flimmering and in any other situation Hongjoong would be afraid, would think that another attack is imminent, but Yunho is shaking from laughter at Hongjoong’s absolute unsmoothness and honestly? He is justified.

Hongjoong has never been smooth, he’s never been outgoing, he doesn’t know how his introverted ass even managed to start working as a freelancer, let not alone meet new people.

But then his phone pings and a new message loads in kakaotalk.

I’d like that

Sorry for the late response I’m tired and making dinner right now!

“Cannot believe that worked.”

“Shut up, hyung, please,” Hongjoong whimpers, because he cannot take any more humiliation today.

They finish cleaning up and Hongjoong makes really sure that he scrubs off the blood on any of the appliances, sends an email off to his mother and Eden in the hope that any of them have any advice and then he just settles onto the couch and lets Yunho choose something to watch on netflix. They don’t turn the volume up very high, content to just have some noise in the background.

“So Park Seonghwa? You’re not usually interested in your clients, Hongjoong-ah,” Yunho says and Hongjoong sighs. He doesn’t know how to explain it.

“I’m not- I’m not sure if I’m interested, but- there something about him, you know, something that- makes me feel understood?”

“By a human?”

“Yeah. It’s- weird. But I’m not in love, like-” he swallows. “Maybe I have a crush on him, that’s possible. But mostly I just- I feel drawn? I don’t know, maybe it’s because they’re hurting him, even outside his home and-”

“Outside his home?” Yunho asks and turns around to him, his arm on the back of the armrest. The couch is incredibly small, Hongjoong bought it way back when he first moved in, and knew that he was only going to have one room as his bedroom and living room, which- he didn’t really assume was a thing adults did, but then- Hongjoong doesn’t really live the typical adult life with a stable job and all. Or- well, when he thinks about the state of the economy and society, who does have that now. Young people everywhere are forced to try incredibly hard for no gain and no respect from the previous generation, so- yes maybe Hongjoong having his shop in his own actual living room and cooking in-between his work isn’t that bad. Maybe he has it better than most.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a gwisin who follows someone outside of his home,” Yunho muses and Hongjoong nods.

“Yeah, usually they hunt apartments and houses, not people themselves, so it being able to go outside with him and helping him? That’s just strange.”

So strange that Hongjoong has never heard about it. Yunho can’t leave the building, or well he couldn’t. He could probably now that he’s bound to Hongjoong. Or- well, whenever Hongjoong leaves the apartment now, Yunho will have to too. Which is why he never wanted to be bound to Hongjoong in the first place. And Hongjoong gets it. If he were a ghost that refuses to move on, he wouldn’t like it either.

“Have you considered that it might be something else?”

“What else could it be?” Of course there are numerous beings that might be out intending to harm a human but- Hongjoong stops in his thoughts. One second. “I don’t think it wanted to harm him earlier. It tried to push his hand away when he was about to spill his glass and that’s why it hurt him.”

“What if it’s not trying to hurt him at all?”

“But it burnt his face and his neck the other day!” But even as he says it he knows that was only when they were hurting it. “What if it was trying to wake him up? Because it was in pain?”

Yunho hums. “It might have just wanted him to turn off the incense.”

That- It changes things. It changes… everything. If it’s not harmful, if all of those instances were accidents. Then it might not be a gwisin.

“But then what-” Hongjoong puts his foot on the ground. It doesn’t hurt anymore, even though he spilled so much bloo-

“Blood,” it dawns on him. He takes out his phone, scrolls through the messages between Seonghwa and him, to the earlier ones. What had he said, when did it start?

There.

15.08. small burns on hand next to cutting wound, kettle missing

“The kettle!”

“What?”

“The kettle, he spilled blood on the kettle and that’s when his first wound appeared and the kettle was gone!”

Yunho sits up as well. He knows what Hongjoong is insinuating.

“Dokkaebi.”

“Dokkaebi!”

No ghost, no gwising, nothing malicious, just a goblin. He goes directly to his contacts to call Seonghwa. It’s late and he was tired, but if it’s goblin, then that’ll be incredibly easy to fix and they can just simply draw it out, confront it and send it on its way (hopefully). Better sooner than later.

The call gets declined.

Hongjoong frowns. Tries again. It rings twice before it gets accepted.

“Seonghwa-ssi, sorry for the late call but-”

There’s breathing at the other end. It’s not Seonghwa’s. Hongjoong frowns, jumps to his feet, pacing.

“Seonghwa-ssi? Are you there?”

There’s static. Then the call gets cut off.

His phone pings. A new message.

**Park Seonghwa-ssi (Wooyoung)**

H EL P H IM

.

!

N OT WAK I NG U P

FIREEEEE

Fucking hell.

-

The metro takes twenty minutes to get to Seonghwa’s stop and Hongjoong runs from the stop to Seonghwa’s apartment. He doesn’t care that people can see Yunho floating next to him because Yunho doesn’t have to run (even if he could). It’s late and the only people who are out right now are people getting off work shift and party-people and he doesn’t care.

If the person at the other end of the phone - he assumes it must be the goblin - is correct and there’s a fire, then they don’t have time. He leaves a voice message for Wooyoung when he doesn’t answer, hopes that he might be faster than Hongjoong, but by the time he gets to the house there’s no one there.

He rings the bell, but no one answers. Rings all the other neighbours until someone just opens the door and sprints up all the stairs. He bangs against the door, rings the bell, because he can hear the fire alarm behind the door, but no one answers.

He tries calling again. Only goes to voicemail.

Punches in a code to the door lock but it’s the wrong one, of course it is.

“Seonghwa-ssi, open up, it’s me, Hongjoong!”

Something bangs against the door. Once, twice, the door knob moves and then the door clicks open.

There’s smoke everywhere in the apartment.

Hongjoong closes the door behind himself, doesn’t see the goblin who he thinks must have opened the door.

The smoke comes from the kitchen aisle. A pan sits on the stove, something sizzling in it. It’s not burning - not anymore - Hongjoong thinks but it’s completely black and burnt. He makes a grab for it, something pushing against him, but he ignores it, touches the handle- immediately burns his hand. It’s hot as if something- yeah as if something hot had tried to touch it too.

He wraps a towel around it, just takes it off the stove, turns it off and dumbs the meat or whatever it was in the sink.

“Can you open the windows, hyung?”

“I can try.”

The alarm is still blaring as Hongjoong runs towards Seonghwa’s bedroom, finds the door open and- his bedding on fire.

Holy, fucking shit.

It’s so hard to breathe. The smoke hurts his lungs and he thinks he might faint.

“Seonghwa!” he yells as he tears the bedding off, stomping his foot onto the small flames until they’re mostly off. Then he opens the window, letting the cold night air in and turns to Seonghwa.

He’s moving sluggishly on the bed, coughing and Hongjoong kneels down next to him.

“Seonghwa-ssi! Can you hear me?”

He coughs again, pressing a hand against his chest and then, blinking at him.

“Ho-” he gargles. “Hongjoong-ssi? What-” he takes out an ear plug. And a second one. Flinches, as hears the alarm blaring.

“What are you doing here? What? Did the-” his voice breaks off and Hongjoong raises his hand to stop him from talking. Looks him over, but the fire from the bedding didn’t seem to catch onto his body anywhere. A first.

“Let’s get you to the window and then I’ll get you something to drink, alright?” He helps Seonghwa up, who seems tired and shaken and Hongjoong has no idea what smoke poisoning looks like, but he hopes not like this. Seonghwa leans against the window, breathing deep with a pained expression and Hongjoong promises to be back immediately.

He runs back into the main room, finds Yunho at the windows, fighting with the last one and fills a glass of water in the sink.

“I’ll be with you in a second!”

“We got this!”

_ We? _ Not important right now, the important thing is Seonghwa.

Seonghwa takes slow sips of the water, every swallow being painful and Hongjoong looks through his bag, tries to find something that might help him.

Hah, there. He crushes the herbs between his fingers and sprinkles it in Seonghwa’s water. He could technically call upon the lord of his body, but- he knows that they would consider it too insignificant.

“It’ll help,” he explains. “It’ll help your throat and your lungs.”

Seonghwa nods. He sags a bit and Hongjoong is there to keep him upright, loops an arm around his narrow waist and Seonghwa clings to him a bit.

At some point, the fire alarm finally turns off and Hongjoong sighs. So does Seonghwa.

“What-” he croaks. “the fuck happened? Why are you here? How- how did you know?”

When Hongjoong tells him about their revelation, about the dokkaebi and the call, Seonghwa stares at him.

“You- I’m sorry, you think my kettle is trying to kill me, because I spilled blood on it?”

Hongjoong shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s trying to kill you, I think it were mostly just accidents.”

“Accidents.”

“Yes.”

“Huh. Okay.”

“I’ll call upon it shortly. Once you feel better.”

Better takes about half an hour in which Seonghwa sits down on his couch and Hongjoong tries his best to clean up the kitchen.

“I can’t believe I forgot about my chicken,” Seonghwa mumbles. “I just- went to sleep, I was so tired, we were so busy and- Shit.”

“It can happen to anyone,” Hongjoong tries to reassure him. He’s getting out a small rattle and cracking his neck.

He starts chanting under his breath, swinging it in tune, creating a connection between the goblin and them. They're - young, only a couple of weeks old, which isn’t strange for goblins. They’re never children, they spring into existence fully formed and just live their immortal lives as helpers or nuisances. They're eager to connect with him and Hongjoong wonders what he should tether them to. He doesn’t want to tether them to the apartment or to Seonghwa. Maybe himself but then-

“Hongjoong-ah,” Yunho says. “I can help. They helped me with the windows.”

Oh. That’s- Hongjoong thinks it through fast. He can tether them to Yunho for a while. A goblin is bound to the earth and they might actually stabilize Yunho a bit, actually.

He draws upon the energy of the goblin, molds it to Yunho’s own energy and connects them to each other.

Seonghwa screams.

Hongjoong opens his eyes and finds someone sitting on the couch right next to Seonghwa. Huge, red hair, looking absolutely miserable.

“Hello,” Hongjoong says and the goblin looks around to him.

“Hello, baksu-nim,” they say. “Thank you for helping me.” They turn around to Seonghwa. “I am so sorry, I tried to help but I just made it worse.”

“You- wait- what?” Seonghwa says, at loss for words and yeah Hongjoong gets it. “You’ve been terrorizing me?”

“No,” they exclaim. “I’ve been trying to help, but I can control my strength yet so-”

“So you burnt him. Because you were a water kettle before,” Hongjoong supplies and they nod.

“Yes, I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean too. You always shiver when you sleep and I try to pull your blanket up and I only wanted you to turn the pain off, I’m sorry!”

Seonghwa blinks. “Um- I’m. Sorry?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” they say and they sound and look so miserable, Hongjoong feels bad for them.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“Mingi,” the goblin answers. “My name is Mingi.”

-

Mingi, as it turns out, really just wants to help. They go through every single one of Seonghwa’s injuries and they have an explanation for everything. Seonghwa forgot to turn the light in the kitchen off, Mingi tried to wake him and accidently touched his hand. Seonghwa left the window open and the wind turned so it looked like it would rain into the apartment, and Mingi tried to shake him awake and burned his shoulder.

They really tried, they promise, they got better at not touching him, trying to grip him through his clothes and just letting things happen when it's outside the apartment because they have an understanding of what is normal and what isn’t.

“And I’m really so sorry about hurting you, Seonghwa-ssi,” Mingi says, again and again. “I never meant to burn you, especially not that much, but- it hurt. So much.”

“It wasn’t intended for a dokkaebi,” Hongjoong admits. “It was intended to draw out a ghost.”

“I- I think I know,” Mingi says and nods. They still look sorry but they remind Hongjoong more of an overgrown puppy, than something to fear. Seonghwa, thankfully, seems to agree, because he reaches out with his hand to pat Mingi’s head, before remembering that he’ll likely burn himself on their skin. He stops at the last moment. “But- at the time it was just too much. And tonight. I think I got scared because of the smoke and the fire and I concentrated really hard and tried to wake you and the- blanket just caught on fire! And I got really scared again,” they whine and throw themselves forward onto the couch, burying their face in a pillow.

They shouldn’t be able to set anything on fire, tethered to Yunho as they are but Hongjoong’s whole body still clenches and he gets ready to jump to his feet and yeet himself at the nearest faucet for some water. Seonghwa flinches, most likely expecting the same, but- nothing happens.

When they look up, blinking at the pillow with a confused look on their face Seonghwa reaches out with one hand to touch it.

“It’s- just warm.”

“That’s- Pheew, that’s probably Yunho-hyung’s energy,” Hongjoong explains. Thank the gods. This means that it’s working. For now. Might also be, because Yunho is tethered to Hongjoong- which- oh now that he thinks about it, that means he’ll have both of them with him at all times.

“So they’re not dangerous anymore?” Seonghwa asks and Hongjoong nods. They shouldn’t be.

That seems to be the only confirmation he needs because Seonghwa leans forward again and puts his fingers through Mingi’s red curls. Mingi immediately melts into it, sinking forward again, their head in Seonghwa’s lap. Seonghwa flinches, expecting to be burnt once again, most likely but- nothing happens, so he just smiles at Hongjoong as he pets Mingi, who makes happy noises deep in their throat.

Next to him, Yunho pouts.

And Hongjoong. Hongjoong does his best to look away because something nasty jumps up in him, something that feels a tiny little bit like … jealousy. Which is ridiculous, because they have a business relationship.

Maybe- maybe Hongjoong just needs a hug. That’s normal, right? That’s perfectly understandable and it has been a while, so- you know. Normal non-human responses and all.

“So- uh- I guess we’ll leave you too it for the night, right?” They’d have to speak again tomorrow to confirm that everything is truly fine and confirm payment of course.

“Oh,” Seonghwa looks at his phone. “It’s three in the morning, Hongjoong-ssi, are you sure you don’t want to stay over? I have some extra bedding I can put out for you.”

“I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not imposing.”

Hongjoong swallows. It feels like he would, but- well Seonghwa is right. Of course there are trains that go to his apartment but it would take ages and he’d have Yunho and Mingi with him and- he is a bit tired.

“Only if it’s really no trouble.”

“It isn’t.” Seonghwa makes an attempt to get up and Mingi reluctantly lets him go. They look a bit lost as Seonghwa gets up on his feet and looks around, so Yunho takes pity on them and sits down on the couch, offering his lap to be cuddled into and Mingi thankfully takes that.

As Hongjoong gets up as well to help Seonghwa, he wonders just how much goblins know about their own needs for companionship.

Seonghwa gets a folded up mattress out of his wardrobe that Hongjoong takes with a small smile. “Put it in the bedroom, I think the rest of the apartment still smells too much like smoke.”

Hongjoong folds it out and waits for Seonghwa to bring out a blanket and small pillow. Now that sleep is so close, Hongjoong realises how incredibly tired he is. The adrenaline has long left him and he doesn’t even know how he’s keeping himself up on his feet.

He checks in on Yunho and Mingi who both don’t need sleep and asks them to keep it quiet, before they close the door of Seonghwa’s bedroom behind them, Hongjoong slipping into a pair of pyjamas Seonghwa thankfully lends him and he doesn’t even have a moment to consider how this should be weird or awkward, before he’s out like a light, exhaustion taking over him.

-

In the morning, he is woken up by noises from the other room. He checks his phone, realises it’s past 9 already, slides his mother's unanswered call away, shoots a couple of texts off to move some appointments to a later point of the day before his phone goes completely out of battery and then passes out for another half an hour until the smell of food wakes him up.

With his phone now dead, Hongjoong stumbles out of the bedroom and through the living room like a zombie, ignoring the laughter that follows him, before closing the bathroom door behind himself.

Afterwards, he feels slightly more human which is good at least, because when he comes out Seonghwa is in the kitchen, the pan from yesterday is scrubbed clean and he's cooking some food. Yunho and Mingi are lying on the floor, talking about something. Might be the afterlife, they’re being so quiet that it feels a bit intrusive to listen so closely.

“Ah, good morning, Hongjoong-ssi,” Seonghwa tells him and Hongjoong nods. He needs a coffee. A big one.

Immediately, one appears in front of him on the small kitchen table that looks like it won’t survive much longer and Hongjoong nearly burns his tongue trying to inject the caffeine into his veins as fast as possible.

“Are you a breakfast person?” Seonghwa asks and Hongjoong swallows. He doesn’t get how Seonghwa can look so good and lively in the morning, with his hair a bit wet from a shower, a pair of sweatpants and a big hoodie. He looks- younger than his twenty-six years old or maybe- for the first time- he isn’t weighed down by the possibility of being haunted. That must be it.

It takes Seonghwa raising an eyebrow for Hongjoong to realise he has been asked a question. “Oh- um- I’m not much of a cook to be honest.”

“But you like breakfast?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, of course.” If he doesn’t have to cook it himself.

Seonghwa hums and pulls two bowls out of a cupboard. Fills them with something from one of his pans and then puts them aside before doing something else that looks like cooking. Hongjoong really doesn’t know anything about it.

But then the stove gets turned off and Seonghwa comes over.

“It’s just some egg fried rice and an omelette roll, I hope you’ll like it.”

Oh, does Hongjoong like it. It’s simple, Seonghwa was right but it reminds Hongjoong of his childhood and of the food his mother used to make for him during his schooldays.

“It’s delicious, thank you.”

Seonghwa smiles at him. His smile is- breathtaking. Detached from all the pain and struggle he has been facing for the last seven weeks and just… happy. Kind. And Hongjoong- Hongjoong really isn’t superficial, he really thinks looks aren’t as important as someone’s character or energy, but Seonghwa is handsome. And Seonghwa smiling is – incredibly beautiful.

He looks down onto his food and swallows slowly, feeling redness climb up his neck and ears, but doesn’t say anything.

They eat it in comfortable silence and when it’s finally time for Hongjoong to leave – he does have appointments to keep, his phone to charge and to get over this whole thing and learn from it – he hovers a bit in the door opening. He’s got his shoes on and Yunho and Mingi are already in the hallway – he has no idea yet how he’s going to get both of them through the metro without passes or IDs but that’s a problem for later – and he smiles at Seonghwa.

“So, Seonghwa-ssi, I’ll uh- send you an invoice?” he asks and Seonghwa nods. “And I guess we might see each other around?” They do have the same friend group after all. It’s only a matter of time. Considering they hadn’t met before this, it might also be likely that they won’t meet for a long time.

“Take care, Hongjoong-ssi,” Seonghwa says and swallows. He opens his mouth, then closes it. “Thank you for everything.”

-

He doesn’t send Seonghwa an invoice. Granted, the Chuseok rush really gets to him all of sudden and he finds himself so busy that he doesn’t get to meet up with any of his friends, instead visiting homes and graves and connecting with the afterlife, honouring ancestors of people he doesn’t know. And Hongjoong doesn’t mind the rush. It’s his best time of the year, where most of his income comes from, but, damn, it’s exhausting. And he loves his work and loves helping to keep the balance. But- it's a lot. It doesn’t help that he has to drag Yunho and Mingi with him everywhere, because Yunho is bound to him and Mingi is bound to Yunho and they try to keep out of sight but the ghosts Hongjoong converses with sometimes notice them and then everything just goes to shit.

So it takes him two weeks before he can even think of meeting up with someone who isn’t his supplier or Eden and by that time, Hongjoong is just absolutely fucking exhausted.

It also takes him two weeks to finally call his mother back, which she will hold against him for the rest of his life he already knows.

“And you didn’t think about it being a dokkaebi before?” his mother scolds him, after she complained about his abysmal son skills for fifteen minutes, which Hongjoong didn’t interrupt even once. “That’s the first thing I thought when you texted me about it.”

“Eomma,” Hongjoong whines. “I really thought it was a ghost and I had all that trouble going on with Yunho-hyung an-“

“Yes,” she interrupts and Hongjoong lets her because he’s a good son. Most of the time. When he doesn’t forget to phone her for two weeks because they’re both busy and she wouldn’t have picked up the phone anyway. “How is he, by the way? Have you finally managed to convince him to move on to the afterlife? He can’t stay tethered to you forever. One day you will die and it will all start again.”

“I know, I know,” he looks up from where he put his head in his hands through the open door to his bed and living room. Knows that Yunho and Mingi are cuddled up on the bed watching Goblin of all things, while Mingi gives commentary. “I think- I think he might have found something to keep him here, something- that tethers him without me.”

“Oh?” she asks and Hongjoong doesn’t explain it to her. Yunho needs to feel the care of someone and he needs to care for someone on an incredibly deep level to keep himself bound to this world. If that happens to be a goblin, Hongjoong won’t discourage him. They’re both immortal beings and they’ve been fast friends and closer than Hongjoong would have ever expected. He’s happy for Yunho. And for Mingi.

“Yeah, I think- I think it’s gonna work out.”

“Hm,” she hums. “And what about your friend, the gumiho? Is he still abstaining?”

“Yeah, yeah he’s doing well. It’s hard some days, but he has San with him and they’re good for each other.”

“Ah.”

It’s that moment that he realises he made a terrible mistake, talking about bonds and people finding each other and relationships.

“Eom-“

“And what about you?”

Shit. He knew it was coming. “Eomma, I- you know how it is. I’m so busy-“

“Too busy to think of your poor old mother? I’m not getting any younger, I can’t wait another ten years until you conjure me a grandchild.”

He snorts. “If you give it ten years, I might be able to legally adopt one, who knows.”

“But you and who else?”

He sighs. It’s- He hasn’t told her about Seonghwa, about the spark he thought he saw between them, about how it just felt so- so good to be around him. Because she would tell him to go for it and Hongjoong is nothing if not an introverted disaster gay who happens to be slightly awkward and does not in fact want to make his clients uncomfortable, when they’re dependent on him to fix their problems.

Maybe- maybe he could ask Wooyoung to invite all of them out for a friendly gathering. Maybe he could speak to him that way, see if he imagined everything or if there’s something there.

“I’ll find someone,” he promises her and she snorts.

“You better or I’ll start setting you up with my colleagues’ friends-“

“No-“

“There are a couple of handsome boys there-“

“You know I liked it more when we pretended I was strai-“

“And they’re all so excited about mee-“

The doorbell rings.

“Eomma, that must be a client-“ He’s not expecting anyone, but he won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. “I love you, please don’t set me up with anyone. I’ll call you next week, alright?”

“You better!” she yells at him and Hongjoong hangs up. For a split second he sees a notification from Wooyoung, that he slides away and then he sprints to the door and opens it.

Park Seonghwa stands in front of it.

It’s late, and he looks exhausted, smells a little bit like food so he must have come right from work. Meanwhile Hongjoong must look like an absolute disaster, because he hasn’t been out of the house the whole day.

“Seonghwa-ssi,” Hongjoong finds himself saying. “How- how can I help you?”

He wonders if he should invite him inside. Did something happen? Is there something he can do for Seonghwa or- He steps aside and Seonghwa steps into the apartment, takes his shoes off, his hands buried in his pockets and swallows.

“Um- I’m sorry to interrupt-“

“Oh no it’s fine, you were saving me from a phone call with my mother.”

He smiles and Hongjoong finds himself doing the same.

“I- uh- you never sent an invoice.”

“Oh-“ Shit. How does he explain that he didn’t feel like charging him more, after all the trouble Seonghwa went through because Hongjoong is terrible at his job? “I-I don’t think you owe me any more money, Seonghwa-ssi, all of this- trouble-“

“It’s 100,000 won, Hongjoong-ssi.”

“Didn’t you pay for the lunch we got the other day? And you made me breakfast.”

“That’s not worth so much.”

He’s right but- Hongjoong doesn’t know how to explain it in a way that doesn’t sound creepy.

“It’s really fine.”

Seonghwa doesn’t look happy. His lips are pressed together. But he also looks- nervous? A little bit. Not that Hongjoong understands why.

“If you won’t let me pay you, maybe I can pay for a meal again? Or- cook for you?”

Hongjoong blinks, his heart starts beating faster. Is that- wait- Is this happening?

“As in- um- I mean- not to assume-“

“Please,” Seonghwa breathes a sigh of relief. “Please assume.”

“Oh. Oh! Um, yeah, that sounds great.” He smiles and Seonghwa does the same and Hongjoong gets a bit light headed at that again. “I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Seonghwa bites his lips. “I- I might have a bag full of groceries outside your door.”

The nerve. But Hongjoong laughs. “I haven’t eaten yet.”

“Wooyoung-hyung said something along those lines.”

That traitor. But- well maybe Hongjoong will have to thank him for this. Maybe, he’ll have to thank Wooyoung for all of this.

“Then get them and I’ll see if my kitchen doesn’t look like something exploded in it.”

Seonghwa laughs and turns around and Hongjoong screams silently once he can’t see him anymore.

“Did I tell you I enjoy cleaning a lot?” Seonghwa tells him, when he comes back with the groceries and takes in the state of Hongjoong’s kitchen. It’s- not pretty.

“My mother is going to love you,” it escapes him and Seonghwa laughs so loudly that two heads appear in the doorway, looking at them.

“Seonghwa!” Mingi yells as they come bouncing towards him and Hongjoong takes a step aside to let them converse with each other. Yunho looks at him with raised eyebrows and Hongjoong gives him a long look that leads to Yunho laughing at him quietly, which Hongjoong will not acknowledge, because he does have some dignity, alright?

He just looks at his phone and at the message Wooyoung sent him.

**Wooyoungie-hyungnim the Great**

i told seonghwa to get off his ass and stop pining and ask you out so you’re welcome

if he cooks for you better invite me bitch you owe me

can’t I invite you next time?

OMG

REALLY

THE POWER I HOLD

SAY THANK YOU WOOYOUNG-HYUNG

thank you wooyoung-hyung

you’re responsible for me hopefully going on a date I like

don’t forget it when I inevitably eat someone’s heart and you need to dispose of the body

when have I ever

**Author's Note:**

> find me at one of these to see me vague-tweet about all the angst i'm gonna force on you  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/theeverknowing)  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/theeverknowing)


End file.
